America's Junk Drawer
by Whiskey Adams
Summary: Part III of America's Most Dangerous Antiques Roadshow universe, Three years following their invitation into the Warehouse, the new agents struggle fitting into this new world of "Endless Wonder".
1. Chapter 1: Truth Hurts

_**Warehouse 13 fic: **__America's Junk Drawer, part 3 of the America's Most Dangerous Antiques Roadshow universe._

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of the characters there with in. _

_**Rating: **__T, (for now), language, violence and other stuffs._

_**Summary: **__Three years following their invitation into the warehouse, the new agents struggle fitting into this new world of "Endless Wonder"._

* * *

**Chapter One: **The Truth Hurts

_"The course of true love never did run smooth."_

_~William __Shakespeare_

Myka shifted in her chair uncomfortably. The large plush chair felt like it was trying to swallow her whole, and she couldn't stop herself from moving restlessly under the gaze of the older gentleman sitting across from her, studying her carefully as she jiggled her foot and tapped her fingers.

The room was cold, and Myka had shed her coat upon entering, so there was nothing to hide the Goosebumps that erupted and spread over her arms. The dim lighting in the small room kept her from getting a good look at any of the paintings on the wall, or any of the books in the shelves, so her eyes were forced to wander back to the therapist.

There was an absurdly loud ticking noise emanating from a rather small clock on the row of shelves to her left, it was a few seconds away from driving her mad, she didn't want to be the one to break the silence, though. She clenched her teeth against the tumult of words threatening to spill past her lips as she looked up once more.

"Hm," the man, Dr. Jack Wahrheit, gave Myka a curious look before writing something on his legal pad, "Alright, why don't you tell me what's bothering you, hm?"

"I've been nervous, lately," Myka was working not to reveal more than she had to, but it was difficult under his careful perception, "Not exactly nervous, but… I don't know off kilter somehow?"

"What do you mean off kilter?" the doctor tilted his head.

"Like the world is not in order, I shouldn't be where I am." Myka chewed on her lip, avoiding eye contact with Wahrheit, "The world has made a mistake somewhere."

"Can you tell me something that you believe is a mistake made by the universe?" he challenged.

"Well, let's see, I'm dating a woman who is so gorgeous, it's intimidating. Not to mention the fact that she's absolutely brilliant, she's finishing up her doctorate. I mean, I never thought I would be the idiot in the relationship. As if that wasn't enough, she's absolutely loaded, not because she's a trust fund kid or some such nonsense, no she's making thousands of dollars a day off of her inventions. It's just…" Myka trailed off, tracing her finger over the patterns on the couch.

"Intimidating?" The man sitting opposite her supplied with a small smile, "And you think the world has made the mistake of creating this relationship?"

Myka bit her lip and nodded, "I can't help but feel inferior to everything she does. And, even worse, that at any minute she's going to realize that I'm just… me. Working a government job that barely pays for my room at this little bed and breakfast, with absolutely nothing to offer her. And there are all these guys and girls just waiting for her to come to her senses. Often I think that if it weren't for her kid…" Myka trailed off with a pained expression on her face, her eyebrows scrunching together.

"Your girlfriend has a child? From a previous relationship?" he tapped his pen thoughtfully on his white mustache before writing something in the little notepad in his hand, "How old is she?"

"Seven… well, she'll be eight this summer." Myka corrected herself automatically, she could practically _hear_ Christina's insistence that seven and three quarters was practically eight- and therefore she deserved a later bed time.

"And is the father in the child's life?" The therapist crossed his legs as he watched Myka's expressions carefully.

"Yes." She bit out between tightly clenched teeth.

"Does it bother you?" he pushed, leaning forward.

"Not as much as it used to," she breathed.

"Let's get back to you, what is it you do for a living? You said you had a government job?"

"I'm an assets collector," Myka bit down on the inside of her cheek, looking out the window at the over cast skies giving the whole town a gloomy feel, "It takes me away from home at least once a week."

"Do you think that's a contributing factor to the strain on your relationship with your girlfriend?" his watery brown eyes squinted at Myka.

"It certainly has caused some strife in the past." She mumbled, pulling on the ends of her hair.

"Just how long have you and your girlfriend been together, Ms. Bering?" he looked over his page and a half of notes on his new patient.

"Three and a half years, and we've been living together nearly the entire time,"

"You two got an apartment together then?" he began writing once more.

"Yes," she nodded, "Well no. I moved into her apartment before we moved out here for work. But it wasn't that big of a deal, it was right across the way from mine."

"So you gave up your apartment to live in hers, interesting," he nodded, "And this bed and breakfast you are currently staying in, you two share a room, yes?"

"Yeah," but there was a tug that had Myka correcting herself once more, "Well, no, we each have our own rooms, but we usually stay in each other's room anyhow."

"I see, and is that your room or hers that you tend to share most often?" the therapist crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hers." Myka's voice was quiet. She hadn't ever thought much on it before, but now…

"Ms. Bering, how is your relationship with your family?" he switched topics without preamble.

"Okay, now." Myka nodded, relieved.

"Now? Was it not always?" he grasped.

"No," Myka lifted her shoulder and tilted her head, "My mom and I had some trouble for a little while when I first started dating Helena, and my dad and I haven't always had the easiest relationship. They always seemed to get on better with my little sister."

"And just how is your "little" sister fairing these days?" the therapist quirked his eyebrow.

"She's great. She has a little girl, Clair. She's turning three in May. Her and her husband have just bought a house, I was supposed to fly out to see them, but…" Myka found herself trailing off once more.

"Are you jealous of your sister?" he crossed his arms.

"What? No," Myka put her hands up, "She's in a commited relationship with someone she loves, and she has a beautiful baby girl and a new house… I'm happy for Tracy. I'm happy for everyone in my life."

"You're friends have fared well, I take it?"

"I suppose," Myka allowed, focusing for a moment on her shoes, "My best friend Pete and his girlfriend are making the whole long distance relationship thing work since they both travel for work. They see each other a few days out of the month, but I can tell they are happy. Claudia, who is too smart for her own good, she's finally reconnecting with her long lost brother, and that's going well for her… And don't get me started on Steve, who's been having this on again off again relationship with a doctor from his home town." Myka cut herself off with a nervous chuckle.

"Alright, Ms. Bering, our time is almost up, so I'm going to be blunt," he dropped his notepad onto the coffee table, "This fear of abandonment and feelings of inadequacy you have stem from you allowing yourself to be put in relationships where you can be perceived as the lesser individual. My advice to you is to step up, demand more for yourself, otherwise, cut yourself out of these relationships. After all, you shouldn't allow yourself to be with someone who always makes you feel bad about yourself."

"Right, I'll keep that in mind," Myka rose from the couch, forcing herself to not run out of the room as fast as possible, she stuck her hand out, "Thank you, Dr. Wahrheit, you are a much better therapist than my usual doctor." The words stuck in her throat, and she fought the urge to choke them back by biting her lips.

He accepted her handshake, "You'll make your next appointment with my assistant then?"

Myka simply nodded, before turning and walking out of the office, then out of the building, not bothering to stop at the assistant's desk.

She was half way down the block her hands buried in her coat pockets when a tall man stepped out of the shadows and fell in to step beside her.

"So?" Pete drew out the word as he ducked his head to catch Myka's eye.

"Well, the artifact's definitely in there… I had to get creative with my truth telling." The taste of lies and half-truths was still thick on her tongue.

"So we go back in and search the place?" Pete suggested, trying to understand the feeling he was getting form his partner.

Swallowing the strange guilt Myka could feel bubbling in her chest, she nodded, "Yeah, let's check in with home first."

* * *

"Damn it!" Helena jerked her hand back from the machine as it sparked. The annoying buzzing sound coming from behind her caused her to touch the wrong wires together, and she had half a mind to emotionally ruin whomever had rung her on the Farnsworth. She purposely ignored the fact that all the wires were the same grey color, and she most likely would have touched the two wrong ones together anyhow… she was too irrational, too emotionally invested in her little project.

She dropped the pliers into her tool bag before grabbing the communications device off the stool. She glanced around before sighing, giving into her paranoia and walking a few isles down the warehouse before flipping open the Farnsworth.

"Helena," Myka's grainy black and white face appeared in the circular screen, a wide smile on her face.

All anger at being interrupted was gone, she hadn't seen her girlfriend in two days, and each phone call they'd had since she left to Washington for an artifact hunt had been cut short by some disaster or other.

"Myka," her name cause a wide smile to spread over her face, and she moved the goggles off her face, "Darling, how are you?"

"According to my therapist, I have issues with feeling inadequate," she smirked, "Oh and abandonment issues. Your girlfriend should probably see a therapist."

"I know a few," Helena offered with a smile, glancing quickly in the direction of the front office.

"Nah, it's all psychobabble bullshit," Myka waved it off, "How are things going back home?"

"As well as can be expected," Helena rolled her eyes, "Arthur is driving me up the wall, my partner is brooding over his latest cold front with Dr. Grant, Claudia is getting in trouble with the NSA for hacking some files 'just to see if she could do it,' and I swear I am going to need to get a harness and lead for Christina if I ever want to bring her to the Warehouse again."

Myka chuckled, "I'm sorry, babe. We should be wrapping up this case soon, but until I get home, ask Vanessa to distract Artie, tell Steve to take the weekend to see his boyfriend, ask Claudia to help you on whatever mysterious project you're working on now, and maybe do consider a leash for your daughter."

"Why is it she's only _my _daughter when she's misbehaving?" Helena challenged, but her smile was bright, talking to Myka always did have this effect on her. She expected it to lessen as the years passed, but it instead, her affection for the American only seemed to grow.

"Because she's only misbehaving when she's pretending to be like her mum." Myka laughed, but a word from Pete that Helena couldn't really decipher had her expression falling, "Pete's just got done talking to Claudia and catching Artie up, I've got to go."

"Alright, be safe, my love." Helena plead.

"Don't blow up anything we can't replace." Myka replied with a smile before the screen went dark.

Helena let out a heavy sigh as she closed the Farnsworth. She took her time strolling back to the aisle of the Warehouse that she had discovered a few months before while on inventory duty. A punishment from Artie for some grievance HG had already forgotten.

This particular aisle, among others HG was now certain, hadn't been on any map or report. She wasn't sure why, but now she didn't care. It meant no one would think to search here for her. At first the project had been because as she came to the end of her schooling, Helena was feeling less challenged. But after reading notebooks filled with musings and searching through the still sealed crates, HG was obsessed.

It was taking all she had to keep this little pet project of hers hidden, even from Myka.

She justified with telling herself that since Myka never asked what project was working on, she wasn't technically lying when keeping this from her.

She knew this line of reasoning was irrational, and couldn't continue for much longer. For now, though, she accepted it as she threw a tarp over her Frankensteined machine and made her way back up the aisles.


	2. Chapter 2: Small Town Charm

_**Disclaimer: **__Clearly I don't even own common sense._

_**AN: **__While I will update as often as possible, it wont be every day, like I had been doing for the first two parts, since 2120 is my priority right now. But I'll TRY to get AT LEAST one update a week._

* * *

**Chapter Two: **Small Town "Charm"

They had been on the case for two days, having flown in when things started to get… weird for the townsfolk. There had been fights breaking out daily, huge fights, neighbors and spouses and friends reacting violently with each other. The police were over whelmed with the amount of domestic disturbances they had been called in on.

It was clear to the two agents what caused the fights: people had begun to tell the truth. Suddenly, affairs came to light, friendships ruined, fights ensued, all because people now had the inability to lie. The more severe cases went so far as to force those effected to spout everything that came to mind.

Abraham Lincoln's pocket watch was to blame, according to Artie. Whoever had the watch on them, forced whoever he was speaking with to be honest. The longer the exposure, the more severe the honesty became.

They knew it had to be the Therapist, he was the common link to the victims. His patients, neighbors, friends, grocery store clerk… everyone he spoke to became radically honest.

Myka had only spoken to him for fifteen minutes, but she was already clearly effected. It was difficult for Pete not to use her sudden honesty for a laugh as they searched for the now aloof therapist. However, it didn't take long before he was determined to find him as quickly as possible.

"Wow, honest you is very bitter." Pete rolled his eyes as they pulled up to the diner Jack Wahrheit was known to frequent.

"I'm sorry I can't be like you, all rainbows and sunshine!" Myka snapped, "God, I don't know how Amanda can stand to be around you…" she mumbled before she could stop herself. It wasn't as if she actually meant what she was saying, she was just getting irritated with her losing the ability to filter her thoughts, and Pete wasn't making it easy on her.

"Really? Because, you know," He stopped before they entered, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his shoe scuffed the pavement, "I was actually going to talk to you about it before, I was planning on asking Amanda to marry me, you don't think she'll say yes?"

"Oh that's just fantastic!" Myka threw her hands up, "Who else is getting married in my life? Don't tell me, Steve and Dr. Hotpants are next right? Then it'll be Artie and Vanessa! And you and Amanda are, what, gonna do the whole white picket fence, dog and two-point-five kids? Live happily ever after? How bloody wonderful for you!"

"You sound like HG when you get angry." Pete pointed out, purposely ignoring Myka's rant. She couldn't really mean it, could she?

"Don't get me started on her!" Myka snapped, but her eyes were pleading Pete to _really _not bring up her girlfriend, not while she was in this state. She clamped her hand over her mouth, gesturing for Pete to hurry up into the diner.

"I think this is the place." Pete mumbled as they were suddenly surrounded by the sound of yelling, sobbing, dishes breaking, and what Pete guessed was angry Russian cursing.

In the middle of the crowd stood Wahrheit, looking so concerned, trying to get everyone to calm down, but he only seemed to be exasperating the situation. Pete hurried to him, avoiding two catfights and a thrown coffee pot.

He used the excuse of checking to see if he was okay to pickpocket the watch from his coat, "Hey are you alright, man?" he asked, feinting concern as he palmed the watch in his purple gloved hand.

"What has gotten into these people?" His eyes were wild as they darted around the destruction.

"Honesty?" Pet shrugged, turning away from him into a corner where he dropped the watch into a static bag, using his body to block the flashing blue lights that erupted from it.

He watched as sense slowly returned to the people I the diner, to his partner rubbing her temples beside him.

"What the hell happened?" more than one patron asked, looking around at one another, varying shades of confusion and embarrassment crossing their faces.

"Uh," Pete and Myka looked at one another, "Bad mushrooms?"

* * *

It was eight in the morning when their plane landed at the airport, and another forty minutes still until they reached the B&B that had been their home for the last three years. Myka had tried to apologize for the things she said, fuzzy on the details, but knowing it had been harsh.

Pete just shrugged and told her not to worry about it. It was decided long ago that no one on their team would ever hold anything against someone who had been whammied by an artifact.

Amanda's car was in the drive when they pulled up, Myka and Pete sat in silence staring at if for a moment. Amanda was out of town more than the agents were, being a rising hotshot lawyer for some huge company meant she had to do actual work. Being that she was so good at her job, an invaluable to her bosses, they also gave her a lot of leeway to work from home.

"I think you should ask her." Myka looked at him.

"Really?" His eyebrows turned up, really seeking his best friend's seal of approval on what he had been thinking about doing for a long time.

"Yeah, I like Amanda. And you two have been through so much together…" Myka trailed off for a moment, "You two are perfect for each other. And she loves you."

"Thanks Mykes." Pete's face broke into his trade mark boyish grin as they stepped out of the SUV.

Amanda met them in the hallway, sighing her boyfriend's name and rushing to hug him.

"Hey, hey, hey," Pete laughed as he lifted her slightly off the ground.

Myka smiled before going up the stairs. She threw her overnight bag into her own room before walking down to Helena's. They hadn't told them that they were headed back right away after finishing up the case, taking the redeye to get home as soon as possible, and Myka was looking forward to spending time with her girlfriend.

That hope was shattered, however, when Myka opened the door to said girlfriend's room and found a suitcase open on the bed, already filled with clothes and toiletries.

Helena was rooting through her drawer, "Where the bloody hell is it?" she groaned as she began to throw things without regard onto the floor.

Myka knocked on the threshold, "Hey, whatcha lookin' for?"

Helena spun around, her hand immediately gripping her locket as her eyes fell on Myka's smirking face, "Myka, you're home."

Two four strides later, and Helena's lips were pressed tightly against Myka's for a searing kiss, that left them both breathless and aching for more.

They pulled away for air, foreheads resting against one another, "I missed you." Myka admitted. It wasn't the longest they'd been away from each other, but they had both felt the absence acutely.

"And I you, my love." Helnea traced her thumb over Myka's cheekbone.

"You're leaving?" Myka asked, head tilting as her attention was brought back once more to the suitcase on the bed.

"Unfortunately," Helena growled as her eyes rolled, "Arthur has ordered Steve and I to be on a plane to London in," she glanced down at her watch, "An hour. If we leave now and I drive, we might just make it on time… but I can't seem to find my passport."

"it's in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom," Myka shook her head, "Why are you guys going to London?"

"What's it doing in there?" Helena demanded as she moved around Myka to get to the bathroom.

"You put it in there." Myka chuckled.

"I don't think I would do that," Helena argued, as she did in deed find her passport on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet, "It makes no sense to put it in here!"

"That's why you did it, babe," Myka shook her head, "You wanted to put it somewhere ridiculous so you would remember. Since last time you guys had to change your flight because you couldn't find it."

"Well, that didn't seem to work." She mumbled, walking back to her suitcase and zipping it up.

"I can't believe you're being called away on a case," Myka felt her bottom lip pout, "I just got back!"

"I know, darling," Helena put a hand on either side of Myka's face, smiling softly, "And I shall make quick of this case and hurry home to you. I promise."

"Okay," Myka agreed, holding on to her adorable pout until Helena laughed and kissed her.

"HG, are you ready yet?" Steve stood in the door way then, bag slung over his shoulder, bouncing form one foot to the other, "Artie told me to tell you that if we miss another flight, you're doing inventory for a month. Come on!"

"Give me a minute, Steve," Helena nodded, "I'm nearly done."

"Why does he pick on you so much?" Myka smiled, referring to Artie's attitude towards HG most days, considering she had been one of his favorite students back in Fairview.

"I don't think he's quite forgiven me for killing his partner." Helena's eyes flashed darkly. Though, if put through it again, there was nothing Helena would have changed about what she did, she did feel a pang when reminded she had taken a life.

"Hey, come back to me." It was Myka's turn to grab HG's face softly between her hands, forcing them to maintain eye contact, "Don't forget, you saved me, and most likely hundreds of other people when you pulled that trigger. Artie knows that."

"Right," HG nodded, and Myka could see she no longer wanted to talk about it, "I have to go."

"Yeah," Myka kissed Helena once more, "Be safe."

"I shall try my hardest." Helena rolled her eyes before grabbing her bag and walking out, she stopped at the door, "I love you Myka."

Myka beamed, "I love you, too."

They would never grow tired of being able to say those words out loud to each other.

* * *

Myka decided to take a nap, seeing as flying coach was hardly comfortable, and she hadn't gotten much sleep over the past few days.

She was happy when she woke up in time to go pick up Christina from school, having missed the little girl as much as she had missed her mother.

The day was warm, and Myka closed her eyes against the sun as she leaned on the hood of her car, enjoying the slight breeze and the silence that could only be found in a sleepy little town like Univille.

It had its charms, that was for sure, but Univille had quickly become home for Myka.

When the bell signaling the end of the school day rang out across the campus, Myka opened her eyes and looked around expectantly.

There was a rush of kids, moving to their parents, for the buses, for the after school program, Myka chewed on her lip, worried that Christina hadn't come bounding out to greet her yet. She was sure, anyone who picked up Christina weather it any member of the Warehouse team, they all parked in the same exact spot every day, so Christina would always know where to find them. But now, the kids were thinning out, and still there was no over exuberant child running to greet her.

Just as Myka was about to head for the front office, a small girl, black curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing grass stained jeans and a blue shirt, leather messenger bag thrown over her shoulder, slowly came walking towards her. Christina kept her head bent low, watching the ground, not looking up at Myka until she was ten feet away.

Myka's worry, which had left upon seeing her adopted daughter, now came back full force. It was obvious something was wrong with Christina.

When the seven year old finally looked up, her eyes widened in surprise before breaking out with a huge grin, and she ran the final distance, jumping into Myka's waiting arms. Myka huffed as she lifted Christina up, holding tightly until Christina put her legs around Myka's back. She was getting a little big to still be doing this, Myka knew, but if she was honest, she liked it just as much as the girl.

"Mom!" She cheered, locking her arms around Myka's neck, burying her face in her curls.

"Hey, kiddo," Myka chuckled.

Christina pulled back slightly until she was able to look into Myka's eyes, "I thought Mum was getting me today?"

"She got called in on a case, and I flew back this morning and I couldn't _wait _to see you." Myka smiled.

"Was it a tough case?" Christina asked, noticing there was something off about her American mother's smile.

Myka shrugged, "A little, but I want to know what you've been doing for the last three days." She set Christina down gently, not letting go until both feet were firmly on the ground.

"Well," Christina's forlorn expression returned to her face as she suddenly became very interested in her shoes, "Actually, Mrs. Thornton needs to talk to you."

"You're teacher?" Myka knelt in front of her, "Why, what happened?"

"I got in trouble today in class, and she wants to talk to you." Christina sounded angry as she spoke, but her eyes were filled not just with childhood rage, but fear and sadness.

Myka was shocked, Christina, while a handful at home and around the Warehouse, never got into trouble at school or her friends' houses, always on her best behavior, and the teachers at the school as well as other kids' parents loved her.

"Okay, let's go talk to Mrs. Thornton," Myka held her hand out for Christina's.

The girl took it, keeping her head down as they walked back to room 23. Christina stopped at the doorway, however, "She wants to talk to _just _you." Christina replied when Myka asked what was wrong.

"Alright, sit right here and read your book while I go in, okay?" Myka kissed her forehead, "I'll be right back."

Myka stepped into the room, looking around at the student's works on the walls, to the giant map in the corner, the wall of computers and the wall of book shelves. The majority of the space in the room was taken up by the student's desks. It was easy enough to find Christina's seat, her name tag written in beautiful cursive while its neighbors had heavy block lettering.

Her teacher had placed her in the back of the class room early in the year, thinking if she moved her smartest student in the back of the class, it would give some of the other students a chance to raise their hands in class.

"Mrs. Thornton?" Myka greeted as soon as her eyes fell on the woman sitting at her desk, back to the white board with the night's homework written in big loopy letters.

Linda Thornton had curly red hair and teal glasses, she looked up at and smiled at the parent standing awkwardly in her classroom.

"Ah, you must be Mrs. Wells, please, have a seat," she gestured to the desk directly in front of hers, "I'm just finishing up these grades."

"Thanks," Myka nodded as she made her way up the aisle, "And it's Bering, _Miss. _But, just Myka, if you prefer."

"My apologies," Mrs. Thornton nodded, "It's just, the end of the year, and this is the first time I'm seeing you. I assumed… I'm waiting for a student's mother, so it you could-,"

"Christina, right?" Myka nodded as she sat, "That's who I'm here to talk about."

"I'm sorry, I need to talk to one of Christina's parents," Mrs. Thornton smiled, though the expression didn't reach her grey eyes, "You understand, student's information is confidential. So If I could get Mrs. or Mr. Wells to,"

"I am Christina's mother," Myka interrupted. "Or at least one of them."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," the teacher tilted her head, her face contorting as she looked at Myka."

"Helena Wells is Christina's biological mother." Myka explained, a spiky feeling growing in her gut, "I'm _Miss_ Wells' girlfriend."

Mrs. Thornton straightened in her chair as if she had been electrocuted, "Right," her face twitched strangely, "As I said before, Miss Bering, I need a parent to talk to me about Christina's behavior, not her," she waved vaguely at Myka.

"_Mom_," Myka felt her face grow hot as her hands tightened into fists beneath the desk top, "I have shared legal custody of Christina, as I have for years. I _am_ Christina's mom, so you can talk to me." She was working hard to keep her voice even, her tone neutral.

"Fine," Mrs. Thornton bit out, "I need to speak with you about this," she put a strange object on her desk, close enough for Myka to grab so that she wouldn't have to hand it to her.

Myka suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as she leant forward to retrieve the object. She turned it over in her hands. It was made of popsicle sticks, paper clips, pipe cleaners and glue, everything to make the main body and levers and gears all things to be found in an arts and crafts drawer.

"What is this?" Myka asked, half impressed and half confused. Without really thinking, she pulled the rubber band from around her wrist, she hooked it on the top notch of the end of the thing pointing away from her, pulling it back to hook on another latch.

She aimed at the wall furthest from her, for the cut out "O" in Spelling Words, pushed down on one of the jutting out popsicle stick ends, and the rubber band shot forward with incredible accuracy, hitting the middle of the circle dead on.

"Whoa," She looked down at the strange contraption, seeing that it had enough room to hold six rubber bands, and could be adjusted to shoot one after the other rapidly, or all at once.

"Your… _Christina,_" she corrected herself, "Made that in arts and crafts hour before using it on the playground on another student."

"Christina made this?" Myka's chest swelled with pride as she tried her hardest to hide her smirk.

Mrs. Thornton scowled, making her look older than the thirty five years she was, "Yes, and I wanted to talk to her parents about it, try and figure out what was wrong to make her do such a thing, see if we could work together to fix it. But now I think I know what the cause is."

"What's that?" Myka turned her cold eyes to the teacher, daring her to say what she just _knew_ she was about to.

"I don't think Christina has a very stable home life, and that _confusion _she must be feeling is causing her to act out." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Are you insinuating that because Christina has two mothers she's a bad kid?" Myka rose form her chair, her protective mama bear mode, as Pete called it, taking over.

"All I'm saying, Miss Bering, is that perhaps if Christina had a mother and a _father_ she would receive the structure she needs to go through life." Mrs. Thornton smirked as she too stood, leaning her hands on her desk.

"Let me tell you something here, bitch," Myka bit out the curse harshly before she could stop herself, and Mrs. Thornton took it like a slap to the face, but Myka didn't really care, "My daughter is the smartest student in this class, you and I both know that. She has an A in _every _subject, as she has since kindergarten. She has friends and gets along with her peers. She is _normally _well behaved. So I'm thinking that the case with you is that you _don't _really have a problem with my daughter, it's me you have an issue with. Because I'm in a lesbian relationship, oh my goodness! Heaven _forbid_ that a child grows up in a loving environment with two parents who love her unconditionally. No, not if it means that it's not a heteronomitive couple!"

Mrs. Thornton's face was turning an unhealthy shade of purple, but when she opened her mouth, Myka continued on her soliloquy, "No, I am not done, Mrs. Thornton. Since you are so concerned with my daughter's home life, I'll tell you that she has both her mothers, two uncles and an aunt, as well as three others who are there for her whenever she needs it. And she never wants for _anything_ because whatever she needs, we can provide for her. So before you go and stick your nose in my yard and judge me and my life, I suggest you take into account that my sister in law is a lawyer," Myka turned on her heel, "And you should expect to hear from her."

Myka stormed out of the classroom, breathing heavily. Christina was waiting where Myka left her, a look of shock on her face.

"Are you alright, Mom?" she asked shyly.

"Yeah, kiddo," Myka took a breath, trying to be calm in front of her, "Come on, I've got to go talk to your principal, and then I am going to take you out for ice cream. How's that sound?"

"Alright," Christina nodded still unsure.

Myka took her hand and smiled at her.

It was a quick conversation with the principal, one that held thinly veiled threats and ended with Christina being moved into the other second grade class for the last moth of school.

At the only diner in town, Christina and Myka sat at their usual booth sharing a giant Sunday as Christina explained she created the rubber band shooter months ago to help her friends against school yard bullying.

She explained in a rather devious way that she only had to use it twice before the bully's learned to never bother anyone. The threat alone of the quarter sized welts they caused was enough. She said she read that the best policy on war was to carry a big stick and speak in a soft voice.

Myka made a note to start screening what Christina read.

Today was the first day she used it against someone who was picking on her, and for that she felt extremely guilty. She had only ever used it for other kids before, but the other kid was a sixth grader, and he was making fun of her.

It took Myka a few minutes to get Christina to tell her what they were picking on her for, and the answer nearly broke her heart. She had been defending her family. She had been defending Myka.

Myka wasn't so sure about small town charm anymore.

* * *

_**AN1: **__"Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far." – Theodore Roosevelt._

_**AN2:**__ As I've mentioned before, I don't have a whole lot planned for this fic, so if there is something you'd like to see in the story, tell me, and I'll work on getting it in there._


	3. Chapter 3: Leather Apron

_**Disclaimer: **__I've not a clue what I'm doing here_

_**AN: **__I really wanted to get some writing done during spring break, but these youths are driving me up a wall and demanding all of my attention_

* * *

**Chapter Three: **Leather Apron

One of the perks of being the mind behind some of the most revolutionary inventions over the last four years when the men who bought them don't want their consumers to _know_ it was you is that you can get almost anything out of them with a perfectly timed phone call or office visit.

Including being able to "borrow" a company's G550 jet to go overseas. Of course, she only had so long to use it, hence their hasty exit before Helena had a chance to properly greet her girlfriend.

Helena was much more comfortable flying in the private jet then in a commercial airliner. Mostly because she knew the pilots and they took the time to explain much of what they did to her. It was almost relaxing most of the time.

Flying to London, however, came with its own anxieties.

It was supposed to be like going back home wasn't it? She'd spent the first eighteen years of her life in London, why was she dreading setting foot there?

Perhaps because after the last time, she swore she would never go back. It had caused her nothing but grief and heart break. In the end, however, she had gotten her daughter back, so she supposed it wasn't all bad…

She wondered briefly, as the plane made it's decent, if wishing she wouldn't see her parents made her a bad daughter. Perhaps she could escape this time unscathed by the disappointed looks from her mother, and the painfully indifferent glances from her father. The only family member she truly missed was Charles, and even _he_ she could do without seeing.

"Have you looked over the case yet?" Steve's voice pulled Helena from her quiet musings, "I mean, not that anyone should have to look at these photos…"

HG looked up at her partner, who was beginning to look a little green as he slowly pushed the file further away from him on the table between them.

"Arthur hadn't been very informative when he told us we needed to go to London," she leant forward to take the manila folder, "Then he grumbled something I chose to ignore before shoving us out the door…."

She trailed off when a photo came loose from the stack, falling to her lap. She felt her breakfast try and make a second appearance but she fought against the urge, breathing sharply through her nose, briefly closing her eyes.

"Yeah," Steve agreed with the look on HG's face as she paled.

"He didn't… he didn't tell us, right? I wasn't just ignoring him?" Helena worked on centering herself, _separating_ herself from the scene in the photograph she had yet to put back down.

"Maybe he thought we wouldn't go?" Steve offered.

"You're an awful liar, Steven," Helena rolled her eyes, trying to grasp for something that resembled normalcy, "You and I both know we would have flown to London regardless of the… _nature_ of this particular artifact. He didn't tell us because he didn't want them to stop us."

"And by them you mean Myka." Jinks' hand twitched for his Farnsworth as it was, wanting to vent to his best friend, but not wanting her to worry.

"Claudia, too." HG chuckled, "I swear it's like she has that grumpy old man wrapped around her finger, she would have torn him a new one sending us out there for this."

"Someone's gotta do it though," Steve argued, more with himself then HG, needing the pep talk, "He would have sent Myka and Pete if they hadn't still been in Washington."

Sickness rolled through HG once more, this time at the thought of Myka being sent after this particular curiosity in her stead, "You'll excuse me for being glad that we are on this retrieval rather than her. Though she won't be too happy when she learns what it is we're after."

"Think her and Pete will be jealous they didn't get sent after Jack the Ripper's scalpel?" Steve tried with a smile that didn't quite reach his wide, blue eyes.

"Undoubtedly," Helena agreed, but they both knew Myka's anger was going to take casualties when she learned the truth.

Helena spent the next hour reading through the case file, cover to cover, coveting, not for the first time, her girlfriend's speed reading abilities as well as her infallible memory.

"At least it seems they have the man in custody," Helena breathed a sigh that wasn't quite relief. It was difficult to feel relieved when looking at the four women who hadn't been so lucky, laying bare and eviscerated for the world to gawk upon.

"We just have to get to the scalpel before anyone else accidently touches it." Steve leant back in his seat, trying to calm his racing thoughts and the anxiety that was bubbling in him.

They had been sent on their fair share of dangerous artifact retrievals, before and after officially joining the Warehouse, but there was something about being so far away from their back up… their friends that made this trip more difficult. And none of them, at least not yet, knew of their mission.

Over the last three years, their most dangerous retrievals had been done with the help of both teams, not to mention Artie and Claudia. This was something that would really test them in the field, and Helena couldn't help but feel like this was a personal test from Artie for her.

They all had seen the darkness spinning just below the surface that day in the barn. They had all seen what happened to Helena's calm, picturesque features when she or someone she loves is threatened. They now knew that she was capable of terrible things, and perhaps they didn't trust her like they should.

Helping MacPherson, even just as a ruse to get close to the man and ultimately find Walter Sykes, had planted the seed of doubt. And HG could just see the wheels of Arties mind turning when he thought about how she killed the man before he had a chance to explain himself to anybody… well, anybody besides the woman who killed him and the woman who loves her.

She was forced to wonder if she would ever earn their trust again.

It was three am when they finally found themselves in a taxi headed towards the Bishopsgate police station, but both agents found themselves completely wired and ready.

They went over the plan over and over as they exited the vehicle half a block from the building in question. They had their badges on them, the ones that labeled them as Secret Service, but that gave them no pull this far from their jurisdiction. They only hoped that the little act they were about to put on would work to get them in.

They entered the grey building, seemingly empty from the looks of it, save for one dozing officer behind the reception desk. Helena quirked an eyebrow at her partner and he gave a shrug in return. Perhaps this was going to be easier than they expected.

HG tilted her head for the back door as she stepped up to the counter. Steve took the hint and moved that way while she rapped her knuckles on the wood, putting on her best smile as she leant forward on her elbows.

The man startled suddenly, nearly falling from his seat, "What in god's name…" he trailed off as he fixed his shirt, halting his movements when he found the beautiful woman smiling down at him. He quickly wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, feeling the drool there.

"Hello, there." HG greeted easily.

"Hi," his voice squeaked out higher than he meant, and he quickly cleared his throat before trying again for a gruffer tone, "How-how may I help you?"

"Slow night?" she rose and eyebrow before glancing over her shoulder to the room.

"A bit, strangely enough, now that we've caught that monster," he sat taller in the chair as her dark eyes trailed over him.

"Ah, yes, I did hear that your station apprehended that tasteless copycat," HG allowed herself to beam at him before frowning pensively, "Will our city ever be out of the shadow of that mad man?"

"We can only hope to wash that particular bloodstain from the streets." He nodded to her, trying not to be obvious about ogling her, though her blue button up with one two few buttons was backing it difficult.

"I'm glad to know that we have officers such as yourself keeping us safe," Helena smiled, watching as her words worked in puffing up the man's chest, "Speaking of, I would expect this place to be teaming with activity, what with the slasher having been caught." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, leaning ever more forward, causing him to do the same.

"Oh, we moved him to Headquarters as soon as we had him secure." He assured her, "That's where most of our officers are now. In the morning we'll move all the evidence there as well. Not that it's necessary, the boy all but confessed."

"Wow, you really are fantastic." HG dropped her voice, and the man flushed at the sound.

"We're just doing our job, ma'am," He smiled, rising so they were eye level, "Was there something I could help you with?"

"Yes, actually," HG amended the plans in her head, "I had some evidence booked here from a robbery, and I was wondering if it had been processed yet? It's my mother's ring, and I'll just be heartbroken if I cannot get it back as soon as possible."

"What with all the insanity of the last few months, I doubt it's been properly filed. But I shall go back and check for you." He began to step back.

"Wait," Helena called, working to keep her voice the same, "Do you mind if I head back with you? I've always been curious about police work, and since you're not busy perhaps," she smiled slowly at him once more, "Perhaps you can give me a private tour of the station?"

"O-of course." He stammered, "Right this way…"

He put a hand on the small of her back as he lead her through the door Steve had disappeared through moments before.

"Let's check in on your property first, shall we?" He took her down a corridor.

"Of course," she slowly began reaching behind her, an inch at a time so as not to be noticed.

"That's strange," He frowned, "This door's not supposed to be open…" he pushed the door open further.

Steve was standing at a pile of boxes, trying to read the messy handwriting, he froze as the officer shouted out at him.

"Hey! Just what do you think you're doing?" he demanded, stepping in front of HG.

"Um," Steve scrambled for something to say, but it ended up being unnecessary.

The man's body convulsed violently for a moment before falling in a heap on the floor, revealing HG pointing a tesla in front of her.

"Sorry about that." She stepped over him, to a stunned looking Steve, "Did you find it?"

"Huh?" he blinked at Helena's quizzical expression, "Yeah, yeah, I got the box as soon as you brought Officer Duddly in here." He glared at her now, "What happened to the plan?"

"They required amending," she rolled her eyes, "Are you quite finished? I'd like to stay in this town strictly as long as is absolutely necessary."

He donned the purple gloves and whipped out a static bag to be ready as HG sifted through the evidence box.

"Here we are," she carefully lifted the antique scalpel from the box, turning to her waiting partner.

They both ducked as sparks flew.

"The replica?" HG asked after the reaction settled, "I don't want this man to get off because a key piece of evidence turned up missing." She grumbled.

"Right here," Steve pulled out the replacement weapon as well as the amended report on it.

HG took both and began to file them away with the rest of the evidence, her hands stilled upon seeing a name jump out at her, her jaw dropped and the scalpel fell from her hand.

"HG?" Steve waved a hand in front of her face, "You alright in there?"

Her eyes flashed in what looked like fear and panic, without a word, she dropped the folder and ran out of the room, artifact and mission temporarily forgotten. Steve scrambled to follow her, how she managed to out run him in heels, he would never understand.

HG was a woman possessed, she found a directory, stopping only for a moment to let her eyes trail along the words before resuming her frantic sprinting. Steve groaned and picked up his own pace.

Down a few more halls, up a flight of stairs, and another corridor, Helena came to a stumbling stop at a holding room, chest heaving, not from exertion, but from fear.

Steve was still confused, worried for his partners sudden shift, but he didn't stop her from pushing open the door.

"Look, like I told you I had nothing-," the voice that came drifting from the room, male, exhaustion laden, came to a stumbling stop, "HG?"

Steve stepped forward, looking through the door. A man, clad in red, ill-fitting clothes stood with hands cuffed, held in front of him as he stood behind a table. His brown hair seemed to be darkened, clumped together in some areas, a bandage was wrapped around his arm, and he had a haunted look in his wide eyes.

"Wolly." Helena breathed, rushing forward to gather the man in a crushing hug.

* * *

It was just past ten pm in Univille, and Myka had finally gotten Christina to fall asleep. Worry for her birthmother, guilt over the day's activity, sensing the stress that was rolling off her American mother in waves, had turned her stomach to rot, and she didn't want to close her eyes.

After four stories and ten minutes of quiet humming as she trailed her fingers through her adoptive daughter's curls, Christina began to snore softly.

Myka quietly made her way down the stairs to the living room, most of the occupants of the B&B were still awake, sitting down stairs together for a while as they normally did before bed.

Pete and Claudia were playing some shooting game on the television laying on their stomachs, shoving each other playfully as they exchanged quite banter. Amanda had some case files spread out on the coffee table, sighing heavily every few moments as she moved a red pen over the pages. Joshua was scribbling madly away in a notebook, to Myka it looked as if he wasn't even stopping to breathe until it was absolutely necessary. Abigale was studying a chessboard intently, finger tapping her chin as her head tilted this way and that, humming quietly to herself. Leena sat on the couch, feet tucked up underneath her, a large book in her lap keeping most of her attention.

Myka smiled at the sight, glad at how well they had settled into life here, their broken little family still running strong. She frowned though once she found her eyes searching for the missing piece, knowing she wouldn't find it.

"Okay," Myka announced her presence suddenly, wanting to distract herself from the longing thoughts, "I have held it in all day for the sake of the kid, but now I need to vent to people my own age so that I don't snap."

Leena marked her book with her finger, Abigale put down the piece she had only just grasped, Amanda capped the pen before sticking it behind her ear, Josh held up one finger, asking for a moment, while Pete swore at the game until Claudia pressed pause.

Myka took a breath now that she had most of their attention, "Christina's teacher wanted to talk to one of her parents, so I went in but she said no she needed her _real_ parents, and when I told her I had custody of Christina, she got all bigoted and blamed Christina's actions today in school on having two mothers and no father figure around to make her home life stable."

She had their full attention now, and she could see as each of them slowly made sense of her rushed words.

"I'll go make some coca," Leena rose from the chair.

"I'd like something stronger," Myka mumbled, but didn't push for it as she began pacing back and forth.

"Okay, start from the beginning." Pete shook his head as he rolled into a sitting position.

Without stopping her strides, Myka went on to tell them what Christina had gotten in trouble for, and how her meeting with the teacher went. The other agents slowly grew indignant with her, all overly protective where all things Christina were concerned, as well as Myka's own anger rubbing off on them.

But they knew rallying her up further would do no one any good, so they all looked at one another for help calming her temper, now that it had been released once more.

"Okay," Amanda spoke first, "I'll see what I can look into for bringing civil charges against the teacher, maybe the school, if that's what you want."

"I don't know…" Myka collapsed into the couch, rubbing her palms into her eyes, "Part of me wants to take that teacher down, and part of me wants to let it go. I mean, what did we really expect in a small town?"

Claudia was making a note of the teachers name in her phone when it buzzed with a message from Steve, "Well, this should cheer you up. Apparently HG and Steve already got the artifact and are working on heading back now. They should be at the airstrip at nine."

"That was quick," Pete looked at his partner, confusion spilling into his features.

It wasn't as if he thought of him and Myka as a better team than Steve and HG, even his pride didn't extend that far. But it was strange to have them be shipped out and pick up the artifact in less than an hour.

Claudia nodded, "I'll see if I can get a few more details out of him." She pulled a Farnsworth off the end table as she rose to her feet.

"See Mykes?" Pete shook his head and let a smile spread over his face instead, "Your lady will be home soon, and then she can go all crazy momma bear with you on that school. You know Amanda and Claudia will help, me and Steve can be the muscle… Hey, that can be this week's family activity!"

"Thanks Pete." Myka rolled her eyes, but fought a smile. She was glad to hear that Helena would be home soon

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN JACK THE RIPPER'S SCALPEL!?" Claudia's voice drifted into the living room from the kitchen.

Myka's first instinct was to hush the girl, but then her words sunk in and she was on her feet and taking long strides to redhead.

"I didn't do research on it, what if you- what if-," the techie was starting to freak out a little, and Myka took the Farnsworth out of her hand the grainy image of Steve Jinks looked out at her, a worried expression cemented on his face.

"What happened?" Myka demanded.

"What? Nothing, nothing," Steve was quick to assure her, but there was something off about his voice, and while Myka didn't have his skills, she knew he was lying to her.

"Where's HG?" Myka snapped.

"Calm down darling," the image in her hands tilted until she could see Helena, "I'm right here. All is well, the scalpel has been snagged. It was at the police department in the evidence room. No danger involved."

Myka took a breath, the knot in her chest loosening, "Why did no one tell us?"

"I didn't want you to worry needlessly," HG bit her lip, "How much trouble am I in?"

"Loads." Myka sighed, "But, just hurry home please. Then I can be mad, and not just worried. That artifact is really dangerous. They've been looking for it since Warehouse 12…"

"It's safe and sound in the static bag," Helena assured her, before glancing up like someone called her, "I have to go now, but I will see you in the morning."

"I love you." Myka said quickly, exhaustion descending upon her quickly.

"I love you too." Helena smiled before the screen went dark.

Myka handed Claudia the Farnsworth back before trudging back upstairs, ignoring the questions that followed her. She barely had the sense to set an alarm for herself before falling into a fitful sleep.

* * *

_**AN: **__Okay, real quick, all that talk about them not trusting HG as a result of the MacPherson incident, that is all HG's personal thoughts and feelings and do not necessarily reflect the true thoughts and feelings of the other agents._


	4. Chapter 4: One

_**Disclaimer: **__I am the proud owner of a caffeine addiction and internet access. _

_**AN: **__Bad news: My SO got on a plane today. Good News: (for you at least) I now have time to write._

* * *

**Chapter Four: **One

Myka was going to wear a hole in the pavement if she kept pacing back and forth as she was in front of her car. She stopped only for a moment, just to look down at her watch to confirm that, yes, they were late.

They said they would be back at nine, and it was officially nine-oh-five. Late. They were late returning with a dangerous artifact. What if something happened to them before they got to the plane? What if something happened while they were on the plane? Why was Myka letting herself get so worked up about this?

She mind seemed to be having difficulty sticking to one emotion. She was angry Helena hadn't told her what artifact she was after. She was worried something had happened. She was anxious to have her back home where she could see that she was okay.

Myka was exhausted.

With a huff, she leaned against the hood of her car, closing her eyes and just taking in a breath. She had worked too hard for too long with Abigale to let her anxiety come take over her life once more. She wouldn't allow herself to revert back to how she had been in California.

The sound of the automatic doors opening drew Myka from her haze, eyes snapping up and immediately falling on Helena, and time seemed to slow momentarily. Her eyes traveled over her girlfriend carefully, looking for some indication of injury, breathing a sigh of relief when none was found. And when green eyes finally met brown, her legs were moving without her telling them to do so.

"Now darling, I know you're mad," HG began, dropping her bags and raising her hands in surrender, misinterpreting her girlfriend's face, "But there really is no reason to cause a scene-," she cut off with a huff when Myka's body collided with hers.

HG automatically wrapped her arms around Myka's slowly relaxing body, but Myka pulled back, just far enough that she could put a hand on either side of Helena's face, crushing their lips together to halt the questions forming there.

"Don't do that," Myka touched their foreheads together as they caught their breath, "You are not allowed to go off on dangerous mission without telling me."

HG lost herself for a moment, staring into summer green eyes, filled with love, sincerity and a touch of worry. She licked her lips, still tasting Myka's there, and nodded.

"Not to interrupt this very touching moment, but might I make a suggestion to continue it elsewhere? Preferably somewhere I can lie down before I fall over?"

Myka pulled away in shock at the unfamiliar British accent. She had been so focused on Helena that she hadn't even noticed Steve, or the other man standing beside him a few feet behind HG. She looked to her girlfriend who was rolling her eyes, also turning to face the boys.

"Um," Myka looked him up and down, trying to figure out just who he was, his current state of dress putting her on edge. He was in red police issued clothes, and the dark moons under his grey eyes put an edge to his look. Myka had to fight the urge to step in front of Helena to block his view of her, instead she just rose her eyebrow and looked to Helena.

"Right, Myka, I would like for you to meet my friend Wolly," she gave a slightly panicked smile as she waved to the other Brit, "Wolly, this is my girlfriend, Myka."

"Ah, the infamous Myka," he smiled just as realization was dawning on her face.

"Infamous?" Myka challenged.

"You're the one she was all twisted around last I saw her." His eyes, more clearly prone to smiles, hardened, "When she wouldn't eat or leave her bed."

Myka's heart twisted violently inside of her chest at the image he was giving her. She remembered how she looked the last time she returned from London, and she felt like she was going to be sick. Helena watched the color drain from her face, and her eyes drop to the floor.

"That's enough Wolly." HG snapped, "That was hardly Myka's fault, and I will not have you talk to her that way."

"Right, my apologies," Wolly straightened, "Must be the lack of sleep taking its toll on me, making me forget my manners."

"Then we should get you to the Warehouse, shouldn't we?" HG's expression didn't soften.

"The Warehouse?" Myka lifted her head in confusion, had HG told him about it? Why would she do that?

"The Regents are waiting for us." Steve nodded to her, sensing the anxiety levels rising in his former roommate, then turned to Helena and Wolly locked in some sort of glaring contest, "So we should really get a move on it."

"Righty ho then," Wolly flashed a smile, and HG grimaced, hearing the mocking tone, "Lead the way."

* * *

The ride to the Warehouse was tense, Myka white knuckling the steering wheel the entire way as HG continued to shoot wary glances at Wolly. William Wollcott, for his part, spent the time glaring out the window and muttering unintelligibly to himself from time to time. Steve was struggling to keep his eyes open, his body finding its limit at being awake for just over twenty four hours straight.

It was a relief to see the faded face of the old building, the three agents unconsciously began to let their muscles relax, while their tag along began to get jittery, nervously playing with the hem of his shirt, tapping his foot insistently on the floor, drumming his fingers on the edge of the window, biting is lip…

"Hey, are you okay?" Steve leaned towards him and whispered.

Wolly flashed him the fakest smile Steve had ever seen, "Right as rain."

Steve's brow furrowed at the blatant lie.

Something was clearly wrong with their guest, you didn't need Steve's human lie detector abilities to see that much. He was quite literally dragging his feet on the pathway to the door that seemed absurdly small in comparison to the entirety of the Warehouse's structure.

"Okay," Myka whispered to Helena as they made their way down the white, explosive lined hallway, "Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Steve and HG shared a look, while Wolly's eyes locked on his borrowed shoes. They were saved from answering when the door before them now slowly opened to reveal a stoic cartaker.

"That's a very good question, Agent Bering." They froze in the door way, Mrs. Fredric's voice pulling them up short as it had a tendency to do when the mysterious woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere, "One I and the Regents would like to hear the answer to, if you all would join us."

It was then that Myka noticed Pete, Claudia, Joshua, Leena and Abigale looking around confusedly, eyes darting from the new comers to a door that was slightly ajar.

"Agents," Jane Lattimer called from behind the door, "If you all, as well as Mr. Wollcott, would join us?"

There were twenty or so adults sitting around a conference table that Myka didn't remember ever seeing in this room. Men, women, some dressed in suits or casually. One woman in a diner's uniform was very familiar to the Univille residents.

They were a very eclectic group, the only thing they seemed to have in common was a stern look as they carefully watched each Agent file in and stand awkwardly against the back wall.

Artie was twiddling his thumb, adjusting his glasses, trying not to make it obvious he was checking out his agents, trying to figure out just what this rather unorthodox meeting was about. The regents never really interacted directly with the agents, not even Artie. But now half of them, as many as they could get at such a short notice, sat in his Warehouse, waiting to interrogate them.

"William Wollcott." The owner of the diner spoke up, breaking the silence that resounded after the door shut with an air of finality behind the last of the Warehouse personnel.

Wolly's head shot up, glancing down the line of people he now stood in, looking for help, but only finding suspicious and confused glances. He swallowed his fear, plastering on his fake charming smile that got him out of more tight spots than he cared to count.

"Please, William, take a seat," Theodora waved for the single empty chair between Mrs. Fredric and Artie.

He shuffled forward, his shoes two sizes too big for him, making a show of getting comfortable, though it was clear for his lifelong friend that's all it was- a show. She could see the real fear and a hint of worry in his eyes.

No one spoke for what felt like an eternity. Theodora was flipping through a file, humming to herself as her eyes flit over each page, the rest of the Regents were studying not only Wolly, but the seven Agents who stood behind him. They did their best not to fidget under the scrutiny.

"Right," she nodded to herself, "William Gareth Wollcott. You became aware of the Warehouse at the age of six when your uncle, Vincent Crowley, chose you as his One."

"Yes." He nodded, voice quiet.

The Regent went on, "Are you aware of the role your Uncle played?"

"He was a Regent," Wolly answered, "He worked in London helping the Agents collect artifacts overseas."

"A position now held by Benedict Valda," Theodora gestured to the short man, studiously keeping his sharp gaze on the man being questioned, "Do you mind sharing why that is?"

"It's in your file, is it not?" Wolly challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We'd like to hear it from you." Her voice lost some of the warmth it held before, "If you don't mind, Mr. Wollcott."

"Of course," he gave a tight lipped smile, "My uncle was under the impression that the artifacts should be used in order to gain more power in the host country. He wanted to move the Warehouse back to London and keep it there, strengthening its empire. When I was twelve, he… borrowed an artifact-,"

"Joshua's Trumpet," Valda supplied, speaking for the first time, "Does this sound familiar to anyone in the room?"

The agents of Warehouse 13 all tensed. The story echoed closely to that of James MacPherson, a man bent on using artifacts to gain power and wealth. A man who was partner to Arthur Nielson, head agent of Warehouse thirteen, enemy of the college kids who grew up to be agents, and self-confessed murderer.

Killed at the hand of Helena Wells three years prior.

"James MacPherson and Vincent Crowley were close friends, and shared many of the same views." Theodora went on when it was clear they had made the connection in their heads, "Please, Mr. Wollcott, continue."

"He wanted to use the artifact to take out the agent in charge, as well as the caretaker of Warehouse 13," Artie and Irene stiffened slightly, hearing the plot of their own murder, "I begged him not to… but he wouldn't listen. I- I called the number he left me in case of emergency. I told the man who answered my call all my uncle had planned. I never saw Vincent again. Valda checks in on me from time to time, though I assume you have all been keeping a closer eye on me than that."

"You would be correct, Mr. Wollcott," Theodora nodded, "We can't very well have someone running around with all our secrets. You understand."

Wolly gave a sharp nod, "I always expected you would come in and sweep me up and take me away. I just didn't think you'd send my best friend to do your dirty work."

HG's jaw dropped, "They didn't send me to _collect you_, Wolly. I was after Jack the Ripper's scalpel." The words were past her lips before she could stop them, "I called them when I found you, your file said you were involved with the murders! What was I supposed to do? Let you rot for a crime that was artifact induced?"

"I didn't kill those women, HG." Wolly spun in his chair, meeting her frantic gaze with a pleading one.

"Then tell us what happened." Valda snapped, regaining attention.

"I was following the murders, the whole country was," Wolly explained, dropping his gaze to his fingers, "I had this… friend. He and I would meet at a local coffee shop every week and talk over tea. Since the murders began, he seemed to become obsessed with them. And something… changed in him. He always looked sick and a bit crazed… I was worried, I followed him one day. I watched… I saw…" his voice grew shaky, "I tried to stop him, but he was beyond reason. When he attacked _me_ with that damned scalpel, I just reacted the way HG taught me. I'm not as talented as she, but it worked to disarm him none the less. I called the police, and they brought me in, saying I was a witness, but in reality, they thought I had been helping him."

"You used your one phone call to contact Regent Valda, is that correct?" a man asked, his tone sounding bored, his eyes anything but as they remained on the lad, "Why is that?"

"As soon as the scalpel left his hand, I could see _some _reason return to my friend's eyes. He seemed confused. But it wasn't enough to stop him, I knew then it was no ordinary scalpel. Memories of tales told to me by my uncle returned."

"And Agent Wells found you on her retrieval and contacted us, and we instructed her to bring you to the Warehouse." The man waved his hand, impatience leaking into his tone, "Now that we are all caught up, what shall we do with him."

"I have an idea," Regent Lattimer spoke up, "It's why I insisted the agents be present. I agree that we can't have a man with knowledge about the artifacts roaming around causing trouble, especially when he's wanted for murder in another country. So we must keep him close, keep him hidden until we can smooth things over in the Ripper Redux case."

"What do you suggest, Jane?" Irene focused on her friend, though they were hardly friends at the moment. No, for now, they had to follow the rules. They were caretaker and Regent.

"I'm suggesting that William stay at the Warehouse indefinitely. Under the watch of the agents here." She looked carefully at those surrounding her, trying to gauge reactions, "It isn't safe for Mr. Wollcott without the threat of Interpol weighing on him. Think if the others involved with MacPherson and Crowley's plans got their hands on him. He knows too much. This way, at least, we can protect him as well as ourselves."

There was a quiet moment of consideration, "All those in favor of Regent Lattimer's suggestion?" Theodora called, lifting her hand.

"Aye," sixteen Regents rose their hands in response.

"Well then," She nodded, closing the file in front of her, "It's been decided, until further notice, William Wollcott, you are hereby placed in the custody of the Warehouse Agents. At least until we can find a permanent solution for you." She went to her feet, followed by the other Regents, "This meeting is ajurned."

The Regents filed out of the room until only the Agents remained with Wolly.

"Great." Artie grumbled, "This is just fantastic! Another to look after. What am I going to do with you? I can't babysit you twenty four seven…"

The agents, no longer under the burning tares of their superiors, fell into the now empty chairs."

"I'll set him up a room at the B&B," Leena nodded.

She had finally saved up enough, after selling the coffee shop, to buy her dream- a bed and breakfast. Though it was only used by the Agents of Warehouse 13, she marked it as a small victory in her life. She enjoyed helping them, caring for them. While Irene Fredric was the Warehouse's caretaker, Leena was the _agents'_ caretaker. She also assisted in the warehouse when needed, mostly working with the artifacts to keep them happy where ever they were.

"And I think it's best if he speaks with me," Abigale added, "With his trauma in seeing his friend kill someone as well as his uncle's influences. Twice a week, _at least_."

The retired therapist thought she had hung up her ink blots for good, but the agents had a lot of personal issues to work through. They all sat with her at least once a week, discussing cases and their pasts alike. It was the best system of mentally caring for the Warehouse personnel that had ever been seen.

"Very well," Irene nodded.

"And what am I to do with the rest of my time?" Wolly blanched, put off that they were speaking of him, deciding his fate, without consulting him.

The agents all looked to one another, but it was Pete who spoke up with the suggestion, "Inventory?"

No one liked the tedious task of walking up and down the aisles of the vast Warehouse, cataloging the conditions of ever artifact collected, trading off with one another in exchange for favors.

"We can't just let an outsider mill around the artifacts," Artie shook his head and the agents deflated.

"I think that's a great idea, Arthur." Mrs. Fredric argued, getting a feeling from the Warehouse that it _liked _Wolly, and appreciated the idea of him walking it's grounds.

The senior agent's mouth opened and closed without any words coming out, just a strangled sputtering noise.

"With supervision, of course." She lifted a hand, trying to calm the man before he had an aneurysm.

Artie still wasn't convinced it was a good idea, but it was impossible to argue with the caretaker, "Fine. He can only go through the Warehouse with one of us with him _at all times_."

Knowing this man was connected with his former partner as well as the Regent turned villain made him nervous and suspicious. How much had they imprinted on him? He was so young, who's to say he hadn't adopted their twisted views on a new world order?

Wolly let out a huge yawn, and it echoed around the table with Steve and HG, their exhaustion settling in on them now that the anxiety of meeting with the Regents had passed.

"Perhaps I should take him to his new home?" Leena gave him a concerned once over, not liking the state of his aura.

"Yes, yes, go." He nodded, "As for the rest of you, Steve and HG, you go back to the B&B as well, you're no of no use to me if you're dead on your feet. Claudia and Joshua, I need you two to run a complete system scan and security reboot. And you two," he pointed to Myka and Pete, "Inventory. Start in section B76."

They groaned but rose to their feet.

Leena lead Wolly out of the room while Abigale gave Steve a hand. Pete skipped out of the room, wanting to grab snacks before he went down to explore the dust covered stacks. Artie grumbled something unintelligible under his breath before disappearing into his office. Myka watched as Joshua and Claudia began talking heatedly abou some computer stuff she couldn't quite understand as they too walked off, leaving only HG and Myka at the table.

The Brit shifted in her chair nervously, "Am I in trouble?"

Myka tilted her head at her girlfriend, confused for a moment before it came back to her that she was supposed to be angry with her. But her heart wasn't in it anymore, so she just shook her head and gave a tired sigh.

"No, babe," Myka assured her, "I just… I just don't like it when you hide something from me. I don't' care if you're doing it _for my own good_. I just want you to be honest with me."

Guilt washed through HG, but she kept her face straight, "I'm sorry, my love. I truly didn't want to worry you."

"It's okay," Myka stood up, walking to Helena, bending at the waist to kiss her softly, "From now on though, no secrets."

"No secrets," Helena agreed befor stealing another kiss, her fingers crossed behind her back.


	5. Chapter 5: Justifiable

_**Disclaimer**__: я медленно схожу с ума здесь._

_**AN: **__Fifth Season Never Happened._

_**AN2: **__But seriously, sorry about the lack of updates for the last few days- I have pneumonia, and it is kicking my ass._

* * *

**Chapter Five: **Justifiable

Helena's biggest discovery in the first year of working at the Warehouse was not the sheer insanity of the seeming magical objects. It thrilled her to no end trying to figure out what made Artifacts tick, actually. A hobby that had gotten HG and Claudia in trouble with Artie more than once.

Besides, after one visit to the burn unit, one temporary case of electrical shock induced amnesia and more than a few accidental whammies that were easily dealt with, Claudia and HG and perfected the safety of handling artifacts- if only to continue doing so without Artie's knowledge.

No, the day Helena made her biggest discover thus far, had begun like any other.

Myka and Pete were off in Chicago, on the trail of some fire related artifact, leaving Steve and HG to do inventory while Claudia was busy crushing her brother's ego under the heel of her boot as she reworked the whole Warehouse inventory system.

Steve had gotten sick with in the first hour of their assigned duty, and HG begrudgingly allowed him to return to the office to lie down until the nausea passed. If Steve wasn't such a terrible liar, she would have thought he was just trying to get out of it.

It wasn't as if she could complain, it was her fault they had been stuck doing inventory on what was technically their one day off. But she had taken a few… liberties when on their last mission that Arthur had been none too thrilled with.

One of the hundreds of rules that came with being an agent stated that warehouse personnel were not allowed to walk the aisles alone, for safety reasons.

HG Well had never been much one for rules anyway. So rather than go find a replacement for her partner, she continued down the Aisle filled with children's toys. It was quite creepy, perhaps that's why Jinks fell ill suddenly.

But Helena pushed the faint sound of children's laughter from her mind as she quickly took notes on the different objects. She hated inventory, it was drab and boring and monotonous, but she despised paper work even more, and that was often the tradeoff between her and Steve.

She was staring intently at a one eyed, rather ratty teddy bear, trying to grasp how something so innocent looking could have caused such mayhem, when her nose twitched and she looked up.

It was light, familiar, faint.

"Apples?" HG put the bear down, turning to follow the scent to its source.

She walked for twenty minutes, turning down one aisle after the next, not recognizing where she was at all, but too intrigued to stop to think about what she was doing. Not until the scent briefly intensified, before disappearing all together.

She stumbled to an abrupt halt then, realizing she had wondered further into the warehouse than she ever had before, and had arrived at a darkened aisle, the lights high above seemed to have burned out.

Helena frowned, pulling a small LED flash light from her back pocket, shining it down the seemingly endless row. There were odd shapes in the aisle, on the shelves, but everything was covered in yellowing sheets coated thickly with dust.

A voice in her head sounding strangely like Myka told her to turn around and go back to the office, back to inventory, back to Steve- _anywhere_, really, that wasn't here, exploring an aisle whose darkness seemed to swallow sound.

A chill went down her spine, "Right then," she turned on her heel to retreat when a gust of wind rippled past, causing her hair to billow around her face, her jacket to flap behind her, and the closest sheet to slide off its concealed object.

Heart pounding in her ears, Helena let the phantom wind fade as she let the light of her torch dance over the floor until it rested on the crate.

Dark, stained and warped, the wood of the old shipping crate showed that it had been a long time since anyone had seen it. It was the red, stenciled letters that caught her eye.

WAREHOUSE 12: H.G. WELLS SECTION.

Her feet were moving before she could help herself, and was suddenly standing beside the wooden box that came up to her chest, brushing her fingers lightly over the little type on the molding paper stapled to the box.

_The Imperceptor Vest; art# 42394677 dwg# 423-40003-HGW; H.G. Wells schematic #4677_

_Attributes:_

_Wearer can move fast enough to become imperceptible to the naked eye._

_Requirements:_

_Requires compact energy source capable of providing 6 terajoules of energy._

_*Development halted due to insufficient power source. _

Helena pried her fingers between the planks of wood. But, despite the damage and wear, her nails were soon bleeding and she couldn't get it to budge a bit. She was going to need a crow bar, and intended to run back for one the moment she realized. She paused, however when a thought suddenly struck her.

She pulled the next closest sheet down, discovering another crate, this one claiming to hold a year's worth of schematics and journals for H.G. Wells. The next holding much the same. That's when it hit her.

Her great-great grandfather had invented these things, these were his journals, this was an entire aisle devoted to him. And the temptation to go through the boxes, to discover their contents and learn about her namesake, was too great to pass up.

Journals were devoured and heavily tagged with post-its to places Helena wanted to make note of for later. If a spare moment could be found, Helena spent it in the H.G. Wells aisle, after having cleaned it up and half turning it into a work shop. She learned that he was so much more than a writer. He was an inventor, like her. And his inventions were so beyond his time, that the sheer impossibility of some of them caused their development to halt.

But now, _now_, his decedent had the resources to complete some of his life's work.

Perhaps the thing that struck her the most, was learning of his status in Warehouse 12 as an agent. How had she not known about that before? How had she not stumbled upon his name when she locked through records, over the map of the warehouse, in the computers?

It made her want to learn more and more about him.

She wanted to show Myka the second she found it, she was perhaps the biggest fan of H.G. Wells that Helena had ever met. But she had gotten side tracked that first day. And when left alone with her thoughts for so long, she convinced herself that it would be best not to involve her girlfriend in her explorations.

Myka was a model agent, all knowledgeable when it came to the manual, and a stickler for the rules that most of their team had trouble adhering to. The last thing she wanted to do was put Myka in the position where she had to make a choice between Helena and the Warehouse. She would have to lie or turn in her girlfriend, and HG was scared to admit she didn't know which Myka would pick.

She would tell her, eventually. Helena just wanted time to go through the dozens of boxes. Because more important than the man's incredible journals, were the inventions stored away. Boxed and shelved, they were incredible. And Helena was itching to finish them, to improve upon them, to test them out as soon as possible.

What she felt guilty about, perhaps more than not telling the most important woman in her life about her discoveries, was who she _did _chose to involve.

She hadn't told Claudia explicitly what it was she was doing, but she sought out her help regardless, albeit a bit cryptically. The redhead's current job being to research a proper power source that could _reach _six terajoules. Pointing her in the direction of the lab at CERN, and their research into antimatter.

So, as it was now Helena's turn to show Wolly down a few aisles of the Warehouse floor, she purposely avoided going anywhere _near _the H.G. Wells aisle.

"So," Wolly broke the silence that followed Helena's explanation of the purple gloves she was forcing him to keep on, since his hands tended to wander, much like Pete's, "You and Myka."

"Yes?" Helena looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "What about us?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets, "It's just, the last time I saw you, she had broken your heart. It isn't as if you called or wrote to me, so it came as quite the shock to see that you are now, what, playing house with her?"

_Wolly had been reintroduced to Christina when she returned home from school. The girl had recognized him straight away and ran into his arms._

"_Wolly," she cheered, curls bouncing around wildly, much longer than he remembered them being as her mothers couldn't bear to cut them just yet._

"_Hello, champ," Wolly smiled at his goddaughter, "I'm looking for a little girl named Christina, pretty little thing, have you seen her?"_

"_Wolly," Christina rolled her eyes adorably, looking so much like her mother, "It's me."_

"_What? No!" he shook his head, "You're much too big to be my Christina."_

"_You're silly." She chuckled._

"_Christina?" Helena's voice reached them moments before she did, rounding the corner. The sound of her daughter's voice had roused her from a restless sleep._

"_Mum!" she smiled, wiggling out of Wolly's arms to run to her mother's._

_Myka was standing against the arch way, watching mother and daughter hug and kiss and chuckle. They and only been apart a day, but it always felt much longer for them. So Myka was quiet for a moment before clearing her throat, "Christina."_

_Mother and daughter glanced up, though it was clear only one of them knew what to expect. Christina was set back to the floor carefully._

"_Isn't there something you need to tell your mother about what happened at school yesterday?" she rose an expecting eyebrow as she nodded for the little girl to do as she was told._

_Christina's face fell as she turned back to her mother, feet shuffling slightly, "I got in trouble for shooting another student with my rubber band launcher."_

_Helena's eyes widened as she looked from her daughter to her girlfriend and back. It was the same look of shock Myka was sure she had had when Christina's teacher told her, "Christina, what have I told you about using violence?" she knelt beside her so they were at the same eye level._

"_Only to use it when protecting myself or someone else." Christina recited with the air of someone who'd had the rule repeated to her several times, "But I was defending someone."_

"_Who?" HG pushed._

"_You and Mom." The seven year old grimaced, "He was saying some rude things I'd rather not repeat. I just got so angry, I wanted him to stop and he wouldn't. So I shot him…" she trailed off, her face flushing slightly._

_Helena sighed, clearly torn, "Thank you dear, for defending us. But perhaps I should have said you should only use force when it's being used on you. If the boy was saying something that you didn't like, you should have told a teacher or a safety assistant." She referred to the four adults in charge of watching the playground and cafeteria with less of a patronizing tone than usual._

"_I tried!" Christina insisted, "They told me that there wasn't anything they could do. I'm sorry, Mum, I just wanted him to stop."_

"_It's quite alright, dear," HG assured her, "I take it your teacher spoke to Myka, then?" Christina nodded, "How about you go upstairs and do your homework while I speak to your mom."_

_The little girl nodded once more before bounding off towards the stair well._

_The two women seemed to forget Wolly's presence as they greeted each other briefly, allowing him to step back and observe their interaction._

"_You spoke to Mrs. Thornton?" Helena began._

"_Yes, and I am glad to say that_ that woman _will no longer be teaching Christina." Myka's teeth ground slightly as her face flushed, "She had the audacity to claim that Christina's acting out on the playground was because of me, of our relationship."_

"_I really wish I had been there," Helena spoke almost wistfully, though it was impossible to miss the spark of rage in her eyes, "Were you terribly frightening?"_

"_I may have yelled a bit," Myka admitted, "And also called her a bitch before threatening to sue the school…" she rubbed the back of her neck._

_HG chuckled, "And they folded beneath you just like that, did they?"_

"_They've moved her to Mr. Hutson's class for now." Myka nodded, "But I doubt she'll get more than a slap on the wrist for how she treated me."_

"_Perhaps if I talk to her…" Helena's voice dropped to a dangerous tone._

"_I wish I could agree with you," Myka sighed, "But let's wait at least until we see what the principal does shall we?"_

"_If you insist, love." Helena agreed, "But if you change your mind, there is a new tesla I know Claudia is dying to try out on a human subject, and I'm afraid Steve is wary after last time…"_

It was a weird parental dynamic to be sure, one Wolly wasn't used to seeing. Especially when it came to his life-long friend.

"Not that I'm not thrilled he's gone," he went on, "But what happened to Nate?"

"He's remarried," HG said in an off hand sort of way that sounded false in Wolly's ears, "Emily is a lovely girl, and she and Nate have a daughter in California. He calls Christina once a week, and she sees him from time to time…" she ended with a shrug.

Wolly wished he understood what the issue there was, but knew HG wouldn't want to tell him, too much bad blood between them for him to be just prying into her life as he used to.

"So, you and Myka…" he pretended to be interested in the grime caked shelves they were walking by, "Are you two planning to marry then?" he was still trying to understand their relationship. They didn't act like they were simply dating, it seemed so much more than that. He wanted to know what he had missed after he saw her last.

"Really, William," Helena turned on him, coming to an abrupt halt to focus her energies on a warning glare, "I don't think this is an appropriate time for this conversation."

"I'm just saying," he held his hands up in mock surrender, "They seem pretty close, Myka and Christina. I'm only worried for my goddaughter, what should happen if you break up?"

HG shifted uncomfortably, at the question, her gaze suddenly wandering everywhere else, "They would still be in each other's lives, even if that were to happen, which I doubt it will. Myka has parental rights over Christina."

Wolly blanched at this information. Sure, he'd heard the girl refer to Myka as Mom, but to have legal right over the girl was so much more than a simple title, "So you'd be back in the same mess as you were before with Nate! Suing for custody of your own daughter…"

"Myka is nothing like Nate!" HG snapped suddenly, leveling a lethal glare at him, "She is a wonderful mother to Christina, she has been from the moment they met. I would _never_ try to keep them apart, Myka loves Christina."

"Still, what were you thinking, Hel?" Wolly insisted, "Giving her rights to your daughter when you're not even married?"

"I did it _for _Christina." Helena crossed her arms over her chest, face paling slightly, "The first year we moved to South Dakota, Christina had gotten severely sick while I was on a mission. I… I got stuck in Russia. I had spotty reception at best and… Myka, she couldn't get a hold of me. She took Christina to the hospital when her fever worsened. They let Myka admit her, but refused to tell her anything about her progress or what they needed to do. And I wanted to be sure that never happened again."

"Wow," Wolly nodded, "Alright, I accept that then. But that still begs the question, you two have been together for nearly, what, four years? Do you two _plan _on marrying?"

Helena's face flushed once more as she began to walk down the aisle at a faster clip than before, "I hardly think this is an appropriate time for this conversation."

Wolly had to struggle to keep up with her, especially when it seemed like Helena was _trying _to put distance between them.

He gave up when a blue spark caught his eye.

A giant tesla coil stretched into the air, and it sparked slightly from time to time, the previous agent to use it for target practice forgetting to turn it off.

Wolly was dumb struck, reaching out only to pull back quickly when feeling the electricity roll through his fingertips.

With his fingers in his mouth to sooth the sting, Wolly wandered a bit further. That's when he saw it, larger than life, pointing for the heavens. He recognized it immediately. It had a steam punk quality to it that almost made it look like a movie prop, but in this place, with what he knew, Wolly would bet this was the real thing. Though it had a few side panels missing, and there were wires falling out of it with frayed ends.

He strode forward, reaching his hand out, forgetting all about his minor injuries as he touched the side of Tesla's invention, the metal feeling strangely warm beneath his fingertips. A chill went down his spine as he smiled up.

"Tesla, you mad genius." He chuckled.

"Wolly!" he heard Helena's voice shout out to him.

It pulled him from his daydreams as he reluctantly withdrew from the machine, making a mental promise to return to it later.

"C-coming, Hel," he assured, backing away, refusing to take his eyes from the massive machine until he had no choice.

Yes, he would definitely be revisiting this aisle.


End file.
